


The Important Things

by ellay_gee



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AND DRAMA, M/M, Sickfic, about as well as i can do one, so you know that means angst, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellay_gee/pseuds/ellay_gee
Summary: Prompto should probably not be left on his own ever, but especially not when he's running a fever and can barely form coherent speech.





	The Important Things

Ignis sighed in frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose, nudging his glasses up a little as he did.  “Prompto, ginger ale is _not_ _medication_.”

The voice on the other end of the line was closer to gravel than sunshine, and Ignis winced in sympathy for how painful it must’ve been for the blond to speak.  “Sure id is, Ig. S’tha cure-all fer what ails you.”

Ignis tapped his foot on the marble floor as he checked his watch. It was difficult to tell if Prompto was just laying it on thick, or if he’d actually somehow gotten worse in the two hours since Ignis left that morning.  “I’ll be home in about six hours. Do you think you’ll be alright till then? I can probably send Gladio or Iris over—“

A harsh cough interrupted him before his boyfriend’s voice came back, weaker and a little wheezier.  “Dodo, s’ok. I probbiss. I got…gidger ale. Add oj with the pulp, so, y’dow…healthy. And that coddedsed soup; also healthy. I’m juss gonda sleep, Ig.  Just. I’ll be ok, kay?”

“ _Condensed soup._ ” Ignis scoffed, but couldn’t keep the soft smile from his voice. “How you ever made it to nineteen is a mystery.”

“I’b tellig you, s’tha gidger ale. Goddds, Iggy. Feels like I’b swallowig glass.  This is not gonda be good for our sex life.”

Ignis clucked his tongue affectionately. “As if I’d touch you in your current state.”

Prompto let out something between a hack and a laugh.  “Y’dow you cad’t resist me. Lubb you, hab a good daaaay.”

Ignis returned the sentiment and hung up.  He had a feeling that he’d have his work cut out for him when he got home.

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

 

* * *

 

When Ignis next found himself with an extra moment, it was two hours and eleven texts later.

**Prompto** →  hey wheres canpoter?

**Prompto** →  canopner*

**Prompto** →  the thing that opens cans

**Prompto** →  im hungry and everything is working abaingst me.

**Prompto** →  nm its a poptop

**Prompto** →  stove hates me. Everything hates me. All but you ig. U r bust.

**Prompto** →  best*

**Prompto** →  fuck it going back to bed.

**Prompto** →  shit ur at ur meetings. Sorry.  Gods hope ur shit is on slient.

**Prompto** →  forvige me?

**Prompto** →  fuuuck. FORGIVE* me???

Always ← **Me**

Please do get some rest. I will be home as soon as I am able ← **Me**

And the can opener is in the drawer to the left of the sink ← **Me**

Where it always is ← **Me**

Noctis groaned next to him, rolling his eyes as he read the messages over his adviser’s shoulder.  “Prom’s sick, huh? He’s the living worst when he’s sick.”

Ignis frowned down his charge. “Yes, he can be a bit much.”

Noctis laughed at that, “Yeah, that’s how you know he’s really ok.  It’s when he starts lying and getting quiet that you have to be worried.

“One time he got the flu and refused to admit he was feeling bad. Kept himself going with energy drinks and cough syrup.  He was loopy as hell and fucking bit it on the track during gym; completely blacked out while running pretty fast and basically ended up with road-rash and a concussion.”

Ignis winced in sympathy. “Hmm, yes. I thought I was successfully keeping him under wraps, but yesterday he slipped out before I woke and went to training.  Cor had to call me to come collect him from the men’s room floor. Apparently he didn’t make formation and the marshal found him ‘vomiting up everything he’d ever eaten’.  He’s been mewling in bed ever since.”

Noctis gave Ignis a sympathetic expression.  “Poor dude. Just make sure you don’t get it and give it to me.”

“Of course, Highness.  I wouldn’t dream of getting you ill.  You’re a thousand times worse than Prompto.”

The adviser chuckled as the prince seemed to consider this, finally nodding in agreement. “You’re right. I’m definitely worse.”

 

* * *

 

The second time Ignis was able to pull away from the meeting long enough to glance at his phone, another hour had gone by. In that time, Prompto had managed to send him seven links to songs he’d apparently listened to and wished to share, a rambling text about how much he ‘lurvd’ the adviser, and an article about how ginger ale could, in fact, settle one’s stomach.

Rolling his eyes, Ignis sent off a sweet text, wishing his boyfriend well and promising he’d be home as soon as possible. With _real_ medicine.

 

* * *

 

By the time Ignis was finally able to go home, it was three hours and zero texts later.  This was a little disconcerting, so he placed a call to Prompto’s phone as he headed for the garage.  Receiving no answer, he waited for the cheery greeting to end and left a message.

“Darling, I am on my way home.  I need to stop by the pharmacy to collect your medications.  I’ll be there soon, though. Love you.”

He slipped his phone back in his pocket and hurried his step. He didn’t like being away from Prompto for this long when the freckled youth was sick or otherwise incapacitated.  Ignis learned early on in their relationship that Prompto never wanted to ‘be a bother’, and would instead try to soldier on as if nothing were wrong. He could have a high fever and a sprained ankle, and he’d still insist on going on his morning run and completing his chores around their small house.

Ignis loved him endlessly, but there were times in which he would like to throttle the boy. Prompto’s self-deprecating/self-destructive streak could be rather irksome at times.

He stopped at the usual pharmacy and picked up cold medicine and a few other necessities, doing his best not to tap his foot impatiently as he stood in line. It would still be at least thirty minutes before he’d actually get home.

Though he’d been the one to insist that they get a place near the outskirts of the city, he did find himself regretting it from time to time, if only in instances such as this. But, he’d wanted to give Prompto something beautiful. The boy had been raised in the city, and though they could not move outside the Wall due to Ignis’ duties, the adviser could give him new scenery to explore. So, he’d found a small rental property situated on its own acre of land, nestled in among the rolling hills near the wall. Sure, it was a longer commute, but they spent it together most days which made it bearable.

He enjoyed their late afternoons in their little home; Prompto would wander the hills and the thicket of woods at the back of the property, taking photos while Ignis prepared dinner. They were even considering getting a dog, though Ignis himself would prefer a cat.

He was not going for Prompto’s ‘compromise’ of getting both.

As he turned onto the three mile stretch of gravel road that led to their little home, Ignis pressed the button on his dash to connect the Bluetooth, hoping Prompto would pick up this time. He had several bags and was hoping the other man could unlock the door for him.

He breathed a quiet relieved sigh when the phone was answered.  Prompto sounded awful, not even able to make intelligible sounds on his end.

“I’m almost home, darling.” He said when Prompto gave up talking in favor of hacking up a lung.  “I know you’re not feeling well, but could you—“

Prompto gasped into the phone, his voice ragged. “Iggy.  Ig. S’hot. I dunno—“

Ignis swallowed hard. It sounded like Prompto had only gotten worse in their hours apart. “I know, darling, I know. It’s probably just because of your fever—“’

Prompto hissed through the line, whining little when he couldn’t stop another string of coughs.  “Nooo Iggyyy. S’ _hot_. I…the sto..the soup…” he trailed off as he wheezed desperately. “S..ss..smoke.”

With that last sibilant word, Ignis pressed his foot firmly on the gas pedal, his tires spinning in the gravel before gaining purchase, spitting rocks as he sped down the road. “Are you saying there’s a fire, Prompto?  Prom? Can you get out of the house?”

But there’s only coughing and a small thump quickly followed by a larger one from the other end, and Ignis’ stomach tightens considerably.  He brakes only slightly when their driveway comes into sight, the end of his town car fishtailing as he swerved into it. He shut the engine off and snatched the keys from the ignition before stumbling from the car and bounding up the porch stairs.

Smoke was indeed beginning to rise from the small building, and his hands shook as he shoved his key into the door, unlocking it and rushing inside.

Luckily for him, the living room was mostly clear of smoke, though it was heavy in the hall leading to the kitchen. Ignis called Prompto’s name before covering his mouth with his shirt and plunging into the haze.

He tried calling Prompto’s name, but quickly gave up as the smoke penetrated his lungs. His first stop was the kitchen, where he could barely make out the fire was licking up the cabinets above the stove and across the counter for all the smoke. Luckily he was able to spot a flash of Prompto’s bright blue pajama pants on the floor behind the dining table before he moved on in his search.  

Of course he would be as close to the fire as he could possibly get. He would not be Prompto, otherwise.

Ignis shoved this thought aside as he lept into action, kicking a flaming chair out of his way as he rushed towards Prompto. He crouched down, gripped Prompto under his arms and dragged him from the room.

Once far enough from the flames, Ignis scooped the boy up in his trembling arms and strode back out into the early evening air.  He laid Prompto in the grass and crouched down again, this time checking his breathing and pulse.

Thankfully, both were there and at near-normal levels, all things considered. He quickly checked the blond over for more injuries, finding some small burns on his arms and hands and a growing lump on his head where it had presumably struck the floor when he fell. The adviser fished his phone from his pocket and quickly dialed for emergency services before planting himself down on the ground next to his lover, pulling the other’s small frame into his lap.

His throat tightened as he gazed up at their perfect little house while it spat flames into the darkening sky. Ignis swallowed down his panic as he pressed gentle kisses to Prompto’s slack brow, running his free hand in circles on the smaller man’s chest as he rocked them both.

 

* * *

 

“Just stay out of the kitchen, Prompto.” Ignis said from the doorway as the freckled youth headed inside.  It had been three days since the fire, and they were just now being allowed to come back in and collect anything that may be salvageable.

“I know, I know.” Prompto’s voice was still rough; not only from the cold, but also from the smoke inhalation. He stepped lightly through the living room, heading for the hall.

Ignis followed, taking the same path; both men giving the kitchen a wide berth. Prompto was heading towards their bedroom, finding it mostly intact; just light soot stains covering everything. The adviser pulled out a notebook and began making a list of everything they would need to have packed up and delivered to their storage unit while Prompto began gathering the things they needed right then.

It was a short trip; they collected a few bags of clothing and some of Ignis’ important files. Most of the trunk was filled with Prompto’s camera equipment and various other electronics. While the blond carried the last of their things out to the car, Ignis found himself wandering towards the kitchen, though he was careful to remain outside the room.

He couldn’t help the sadness that swept over him. They’d spent so many mornings in this room, talking softly over breakfast. This was actually the first room they’d made love in when they had moved in. Now, the room was riddled with half-burnt debris and there was a clear spot outlined in soot where Prompto had been laying while fire raged all around him.

What remained of the interior was mostly black, but great chunks of the outside wall were missing and daylight shone through in cheerful juxtaposition to the destruction it illuminated. The fire had began due to a faulty light on the stove; it had not come on to indicate that it was heating when Prompto had put the soup on, and in his sickly stupor, he simply gave up--leaving it on as he went back to bed, believing the stove to be broken. After a few hours, the soup had cooked down and began to burn; the inspector reasoned that the curtains above the stove had probably been the first thing to actually catch fire and it had quickly spread from there.

He supposed he’d been lost in his melancholy longer than necessary, for he was startled out of his thoughts by a hesitant arm encircling his waist.

He wrapped his own arm around Prompto’s shoulders, pulling him closer, smiling a little at the warmth that rose in his chest when the smaller man leaned bodily into him.  

“I’m so sorry, Iggy.” Prompto ground out, rubbing his face into Ignis’ side. “Looks like all your stuff is ruined. Kinda unfair that my stuff’s ok, but you couldn’t save anything of yours.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Ignis squeezed Prompto’s shoulder and dropped a kiss into his hair.  “I saved you, didn’t I? You’re all the ‘stuff’ I need.”

Prompto chuckled, poking Ignis in the side playfully. “The only kind of ‘stuff’ I am is _hot stuff_.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the adviser, who groaned and rolled his eyes in response.

“I love you dearly, but please save the puns for me.” He laughed a little louder, a little more freely, as Prompto pulled him towards the door.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t own puns, Igs.” Prompto quelled any further argument by pulling Ignis down into a passionate kiss.

It was a cheap way to win the impending playful exchange, but Ignis couldn’t bring himself to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> so i genuinely went into this trying for a fluffy sickfic, but my evil satan brain said 'nooo. add fire.' soooo, well, i hope you enjoyed it :) lemme know what you think!


End file.
